


affection, devoured

by shindouchrono



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Cuddling, Flirting, Hickies, M/M, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shindouchrono/pseuds/shindouchrono
Summary: Goro runs his fingers down Akira’s back. He knows the placement of all the organs, each and every rib, he presses down on the small of Akira’s back, eyeing upwards to the spot where his heart beats away. He knows all of Akira’s weak spots, to where he is ticklish to where he is insecure. His lips turn up of their own accord.





	affection, devoured

When Akira wakes in the morning, his mind buzzes quietly for no reason he can place. More than anything else, he feels restless and attempts to sit up. Goro's arms are wrapped around him, and he gives upon moving all together. Sleep tugs at his eyes… Akira’s glasses are nowhere to be found; he can hardly make out Goro's face, the small details and the little freckles that he knows so well. They stayed up late last night.

(Akira hopes his high collar will hide the bruises trailing down his neck to his collarbone.)

Goro’s dark circles are prominent. Akira doesn’t have a doubt that their under eyes look similar. Akira had always looked tired, regardless of the amount of sleep he had gotten the night before. It was just an unfortunate situation. Maybe he was just tired constantly. Goro shifts, and Akira focuses his attention on the detective whose arms he has been sleeping in. His eyes open, slowly. “Good morning, honey.”

“Indeed, it is, Kurusu-kun.” Akira leans forward to kiss Goro, who leans in. Their hands entwine. Goro tilts his neck to the side, and Akira pecks kisses along the length. Goro grabs a tuft of Akira's hair, pulling him back. There’s a sharp intake of breath. Both of their cheeks are luminescent.

“The day starts how it ended, I see.” Akira chuckles, sitting up, in his usual position of straddling Goro's waist.

“Can’t help it. Your lips are irresistible. One second we lock eyes, the next our hands are on each other. Was I mistaken in thinking it mutual?”

“I feel quite the same. But I would much prefer it if you came back down to my level.” Akira raises an eyebrow as Goro pulls him down, hands tugging at strands of his hair, their lips frantically meeting. Akira shudders. “Ah, it seems our detective prince wants his meal early.” Akira's hands rake down Goro’s sides. “Naturally, I’ll indulge him.”

Their faces inch closer, again, foreheads gently touching. There’s a gurgle, and Goro looks embarrassed. Akira giggles, grinning. It’s mischievous yet good natured.

“Maybe we should get actual sustenance, first?” Goro suggests, sheepishly.

“Of course, sweetie. Though, there isn’t many options for what to eat. It’s either curry, rice, or… Curry rice.” Akira shifts away from Goro’s lap, nimbly making his way off the bed. He stretches, letting out a sigh. “By the way… have you seen my glasses? Trying to find them without them has always proven difficult.”

“Ah… I think they’re right here. Just how bad is your vision, Kurusu-kun?”

“As bad as I am.” Akira smirks, pushing his glasses up.

“Oh, so they’re fake lenses?” Goro crosses his legs, placing his chin in his hand-– and smiles gently. Akira looks a mix of proud, offended, and affectionate. He walks over, bending down to peck kisses on Goro’s cheek.

“C’mon. Let’s get dressed, already. At this rate, you’re not going to be leaving the bed.” Goro lets out an undignified snort in response. “And you say I’m the hungry one. Aren’t you just _famished,_ Kurusu-kun?”

Akira pulls a shirt over his head, and smiles. “Nah. Just thirsty.” And then he licks his lips, and starts to make his way down the stairs. Goro feels a drop of sweat drip down the back of his neck, and realizes that since he no longer had Akira pressed against his side, there was no excuse for that. The frustration of being flustered keeps his body moving, despite hunger beginning to gnaw at him. Instead of dwelling, Goro silently follows.

“Sojiro-san isn’t here today?” Akira nods, turning around. There’s a brief pause before Goro realizes to tie the bow on Akira’s apron. His fingers are deft, and nimble. He double knots it, and then presses a kiss to the back of his neck. There’s a shuddering breath. “Do you want to eat the curry, or me? You’re certainly giving off mixed signals, my prince.”

“Whichever is quicker.”

“So impatient. I just need to reheat it. The stove is best for that sort of thing.”

“Aww… leftovers.” Goro sighs into Akira’s shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. He pokes a fresh bruise with his finger. Akira flinches. Goro smiles against Akira’s shoulder. “You’re not going to cover them? What if Sojiro-san was home? I don’t think he’d be happy to find out the things you get up to when he’s not around.”

There’s the click of the oven, and Akira stirs the pot. For a second, Goro wasn’t entirely sure that he was going to respond. Maybe the rest of the conversation would be the sound of metal scraping against metal. Akira could have a nasty cold shoulder, if he so pleased. “I’m sure there are better things you could be doing with your mouth instead of teasing me, Akechi.”

“Oh? Such as…?”

“Aren’t you the brilliant detective? I’m sure you can think of a couple things… with your hands, and your mouth.” Goro slides his hands down Akira’s hips, resting on his thighs. “Truly, you need to enlighten me. Even as a such a highly skilled detective, sometimes a second opinion can be necessary, even welcomed.”

“Getting some bowls and spoons would be a fantastic use.”

Goro lets go of Akira, and moves to grab the aforementioned items. The silence returns. He sets the table silently, leaving the bowls within Akira’s reach. Goro sits down in his usual spot at the counter, chin resting in his hands. Akira sets the bowl down in front of him. The familiar, comforting scent of LeBlanc is present in the air.

It smells like Akira.

Or, maybe, Akira smelled like LeBlanc. Like coffee, curry, cats, and his fruity scented shampoo. His smile is warm, like the bowl of curry, steam rising from the contents.

“Honey, don’t pout. I’m just teasing you.”

“I’m not _pouting._ I’m actually trying to eat.” Goro says. Akira laughs, and takes a seat next to Goro. Their shoulders bump together. It happens quite frequently. “One day, we should consider sitting on the opposite side of each other. You eat with your right hand, I eat with my left. It could end up disastrous.”

“Aww, is making bodily contact with me too distracting for you to eat? I know, I know, you just keep thinking about how much you want your lips on me, instead of the delicious curry and coffee I make for you, filled to the brim with love.”

“Is that the secret ingredient? Maybe I should go public to the press about that.”

“How rude. I’m wounded! How will my pride _ever_ recover!” Akira covers his chest with one hand, the other pressed up against his forehead in an overdramatic display. Goro just stares blankly back at him. Akira gives a wink, blows a kiss.

“I think your ego can substitute for it.”  The rest of the meal went the same way it always did. Playful, flirty banter. Their ankles meeting under the table, to cross together. Neither would comment on it. Akira stood, putting Goro’s bowl in his. Goro licked off his spoon, then placed it in the bowl with a small smile. “Thank you for the meal.”

Akira smiles back.

“It’s my pleasure, honey.”

Goro would occasionally offer to help clean the dishes, but Akira would decline each time. Sojiro had a very specific way he wanted the dishes cleaned, and Akira wasn’t willing to risk needing to do it all over again. So, whenever it came time for the dishes to be washed, Goro would instead sit and admire the view.

He had really done a number on Akira’s neck. In all fairness, his boyfriend was a thrill seeker. Goro doubted that the pair would ever find true satisfaction, so it was only natural to take what they could receive from each other. They were both very giving in that sense.

He brings his eyes upwards, focusing on Akira’s wild black curls. Sometimes they frame his face, sometimes they stick up, occasionally they would cover his eyes and render Akira incapable of seeing anything at all. There was never a consistency, nor could there ever be assumptions on what it would look like the next day.

(The times before when they both had things to do, Akira would always laugh, and say it wasn’t  a big deal. He was, of course, somewhat familiar with makeup. “Covering bruises is an easy feat. It’s one of the easier aspects of makeup, in all honesty.”)

Goro fiddles with his own hair, for a brief second. It’s brown, and long. It’s not super soft, yet not at all coarse. It’s unlike Akira’s hair, smooth, soft, and always sweet smelling. Goro used a well-priced drugstore brand. The label said vanilla, but the scent never lasted. It didn’t matter too much, if at all. He had considered cutting it, but decided against it. His hair simply grew too fast to try and fight the length. If nothing else, at least there was consistency in the style he wore his hair.

He removes his chin from his hands, and, bored, he examines them. They’re nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. His left pointer finger has a small blister on it. When Akira and Goro would hold hands, Akira would note the softness of Goro’s, saying it was unsurprising that the charming detective prince would have such hands. Goro would roll his eyes.

Akira’s hands were suited for him. They were fingers of a pianist, long and thin. If you looked closely at his hands, you could see the blue veins trailing down. There were a few freckles dotted down his arm. Akira’s palms would be blistered, a bit rough. He washed dishes, handled knives and guns. There was also a notable scar on his left forearm.

(“I was cooking curry, one of my first times. It splashed out at me.” Is what Akira had said, looking embarrassed. There was a certain layer to his expression that Goro couldn’t figure out. He decided to leave it be, but Akira's words sounded like a lie.)

Goro looks up. Akira is untying the apron, lifting it over his head and placing it in its former position. He watches as Akira surveys the area, presumably checking for any messes. He smiles to himself, looking proud. They meet eyes.

“Admiring the view?”

“Indeed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. You washing the dishes is so… _enchanting,_ though I fear those words are not enough to capture the depth of the beauty before my eyes.” Even though Goro’s voice drips with sarcasm, the truth is still there. Akira is undeniably beautiful-– and he doesn’t seem to miss the praise, albeit a strangely phrased praise.

“What do you want to do now? Any plans?”

“I have all the time in the world for you-– for today, that is.”

So, they go back upstairs to Akira’s room and watch some episodes of a long running detective anime. Akira had always rented some strange things, most of which out of Goro’s subjects of interest. He would normally doze off, or occupy his mind with other thoughts. This, however, was his line of work.

Goro briefly wondered if this was mere coincidence, or if Akira had picked this out on purpose. It didn’t quite matter. The show had his full attention. As for Akira’s? It must have been around half attention. A quarter attention. Not that much.

“What sort of science is this? Do they ever bother to explain it?”

“Nah, not really. They just sort of… don’t. There aren’t many plot episodes, and some of the more plot ones are very subtle. I’m sure you’d pick it up if you read the whole thing, but with your busy schedule…” Akira leans into Goro’s shoulder. “I really doubt you would have the time to finish it all.”

“How many chapters are there?”

“As of right now? I think they’ve just nearly breached the 1000th. It has to be somewhere in the late 990’s. Are you seriously considering it?” Goro shrugs, still fixated on the screen. The episode currently playing has a drunk rock star. He dies after he performs in a karaoke bar. Goro muses aloud, that for a last showing, it was rather underwhelming.

“It’s the girl, over there. The poison was on the jacket. As for the reasoning… The subtle hints they left regarding the band’s dissipation, I would assume it has something to do with their relationship. Judging by the previous episodes, I can deduct that it has to do with some uncommunicated romantic issue between the two.”

“You never cease to impress me.”

“What kind of detective would I be if I was stumped by this? You underestimate my deductive abilities, Kurusu-kun.” Goro straightens up, looking very proud of himself. He’s certainly sitting up straighter than he was before, hunched over as he muttered about “signs” “clues” and “hints”. “There’s more of this, right? Should we keep watching? Or would you rather do something else?”

“This is fine. I like seeing you all giddy like this.”

“I don’t know if I would have described myself with the term “giddy”, but, to each their own. I won’t deny the enjoyment I get out of solving a case.”

“Is it the rush of the knowledge that you’ve outsmarted someone, that makes you beam like this? Or is it the feeling of power, of control you have?” Akira stretches out his legs, bending in a way that Goro swears cannot, in no way, shape, or form, be comfortable. He leans his head back on the pillows they have set up. Goro can’t see his expression this way.

“I haven’t thought about it to that extent. More than anything else, I have a drive to find out all that I can, regardless of the answers that make their way to me in my fervent frenzy for truths. It’s as simple as that. My sole desire.”

“Your sole desire… is uncovering the truth, plain and simple? Being able to lay the truth bare for all eyes to feast upon, to devour? It’s simple yet complex. I can understand the feeling.” Akira tilts his body, so they can look at each other. “Do you know what my sole interest is?”

“For the love of all that is holy, please do _not_ say “respecting women”. I will dump you off of me, deprive you of my warmth, and I will leave LeBlanc and delete your number off of my phone.”

“But, Akechi…” Akira’s lips twitch. “Akechi, we have to. We gotta respect women.”

“You disgust me, truly. Disgusting. This is almost as mortifying as the time I was asked my opinion on dabbing. I’m a detective, not a show host for those with a miniscule sense of humor. Truly, it’s grown rather old, and I have become _less than fond_.”

“You’re just embarrassed you didn’t know what 'thot' meant. That’s your real issue here, sweetie. It’s okay. We all need time to learn and process things that are new to us.”

“Why do I put up with you, again?” Goro’s eyebrows furrow, and Akira laughs at his expression, reaching his hand out to gently tap on Goro’s nose.

“My beauty and charm.”

“Is that so? Thank you for informing me.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you, my darling.”

“Anything?” Goro asks, leaning back, the palms of his hands supporting him so he doesn’t fall over. He crosses one ankle over the other, and he would have crossed more, in a dramatic and Akira like fashion, but Akira himself was the obstacle that prevented him from doing such things. Movement becomes a lot harder when your boyfriend has declared your lap his leg’s resting spot. “When you say anything, you mean anything? I’d be happy to take you up on that offer.”

Akira closes his eyes, an act of tactful, teasing defiance. “Nah. Changed my mind. I don’t trust that tone of voice… That smirk you have on your face always means you’re up to something.”

“You know me so well, Kurusu-kun, but I was truly, only going to ask you to switch on another episode. I spotted more DVDs of this show.” Akira opens his eyes, blinking. He crinkles up his nose as he strains to remember where he put the rest of the DVDs, and, when he finally remembers, he whines for a small amount of time before actually going to retrieve the DVD and put it in the player.

“You know, Akechi, I’ve been wondering… are we ever going to call each other by our given names? Everyone else has called me Akira for a long while, but you haven’t. Is there any reason for that?”

“You dislike me calling you by your family name?” Akira shakes his head. This conversation had been sparked by curiosity, and was now being driven by courage. “I guess there isn’t much of a reason. Falling into the habit of calling you by your given name, rather than your family name, of course, will take some getting used to.”

“Can I call you Goro-chan, then? You can add -chan to mine, as well.” Goro rolls his eyes. The opening song of the anime plays in the background. Goro notes Akira tapping his fingers to the beat in the background. It’s a very subtle melody – the lyrics are more the center stage. “I’m just joking. We don’t actually need to change anything. I like how things are. I like… how we are.”

Akira trails off, cheeks dusted a light red. “Are you going to say that you like me next? I’m sorry to disappoint you, handsome attic dweller, that I am taken by my lovely boyfriend. He has dark curls, grey eyes, and a permanent cat shaped mouth. Mayhap you have seen him?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve seen that fellow frequent quite often around here.”

“Truly? Where, have you seen him? I miss him so. I miss his warm embrace, his familiar scent, and the magnetic and heart pounding feeling I get when we connect…” Goro runs a hand through Akira’s hair. It’s less tangled than usual, so his fingers pass through quickly. He does it again, this time taking his time and brushing through slowly. “The addicting feeling of our skin touching… Please, tell me you have seen him before?”

“I have, indeed… When I pass by mirrors, reflective surfaces, I see exactly the one you are describing. I think, that, perhaps, I may be your boyfriend, with his dashing good looks and outstanding personality.”

“He’s very humble, too.” Their lips meet. Akira’s hand reaches to rest on the nape of Goro’s neck. They kiss each other gently, slowly, softly. Time feels like an hourglass. Each second passing by as a grain of sand falls – but the sand falls in slow motion. The moment could be savored and devoured for what feels like an eternity.

“Hey, Goro?” Akira says, the confidence of his voice evident, yet nonexistent. There’s a subtle, slight tremble in his voice. When Goro glances out of the corner of his eye, to the side, he sees that Akira’s ears have turned red. “I love you. I’m sure you knew, but I wanted just… just to make sure. I love you.”

Goro runs his fingers down Akira’s back. He knows the placement of all the organs, each and every rib, he presses down on the small of Akira’s back, eyeing upwards to the spot where his heart beats away. He knows all of Akira’s weak spots, to where he is ticklish to where he is insecure. His lips turn up of their own accord.

“I love you too, Akira-kun.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was like, yeah, I doubt I'm gonna finish this fic, it's like 300 words, I don't see it going anywhere. And then, somehow, this happened. I just wanted to write them cuddling. That was it. Honest.  
> My twitter is @chronojetdragon if you'd like to come scream at me about Persona 5! Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
